


Herbal Tea, Hikes, and Meditation

by plutosrose



Series: Triskelion University Faculty [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Teachers, Blow Jobs, M/M, Meditation, Sneaky Handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:53:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27714353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plutosrose/pseuds/plutosrose
Summary: Steve says he enjoys meditation but all he really does when he and Bucky meditate together is feel him up.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Triskelion University Faculty [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911763
Comments: 14
Kudos: 124
Collections: Bucky Barnes Bingo 2020





	Herbal Tea, Hikes, and Meditation

In the course of their relationship, Bucky had introduced Steve to new things. Steve, for example, had never seen _Real Genius_ in his entire life, which felt like it might have been a literal crime. (“Are you serious? I am pretty sure that Val Kilmer was both my inspiration for wanting to build lasers and also how I figured out that I liked guys.”) 

Steve had merely shrugged sheepishly. Bucky, for his part, had snuggled up with him almost every night for a month straight, just picking out all of his favorite sci-fi movies, ranging from _Weird Science_ , (“There’s a guy in this that looks like a teenage version of Tony and now I can’t unsee it.”) to _Event Horizon_ , which had really just been an excuse for Bucky to play up how freaked out he was by certain scenes, (though to be honest, Steve had murmured his approval when Bucky clung to his side during the infamous “Where we’re going, we don’t need eyes to see” scene). 

And you know what Steve had introduced him to in return?

Unsweetened herbal tea.

Hikes in the woods.

And motherfucking _meditating._

It wasn’t all bad--he was forced to conclude that peppermint herbal tea, when it wasn’t sweetened with sugar, was still fairly sweet. The hike that Steve dragged him out of bed at 5am for wasn’t bad either, and while he’d complained the entire way up the peak, the view, and the look of Steve’s rosy cheeks in the crisp morning air were worth waking up for. 

Meditating, however, was the worst.

It wasn’t even that Bucky couldn’t sit still for long periods of time. He’d spent the past decade of his life in a lab, noting down small, incremental results in his experiments. Of course he could sit still. He could do it all day if he had to.

No, the problem was that when Steve wanted them to meditate, it wasn’t really meditating. Not by a long shot.

It was Sunday morning, and he was sitting cross-legged in Steve’s living room while Steve actually went around lighting candles that would make his entire house smell like jasmine and lavender. As if meditation was actually what they were going to be doing.

Okay, to be fair, one time they did meditate, and the only talking that had happened was Steve asking him about the red star tattoo on his shoulder, to which he’d responded, “It was something very dumb I did when I was drunk and thought I was going to be marrying a Russian and I sort of grew attached to it after.” 

See? Normal stuff. Normal boyfriend stuff.

What happened next, well…

Steve put on the mix that he’d created, because yeah, he had his own curated mix, the fucking dork. 

It was hard for him to act like he didn’t find things like that incredibly endearing, though.

But Steve wouldn’t give him much time to be endeared by the fact that he was a giant dork, because the second that he closed his eyes--the second that he tried to make an effort to lose himself to the sounds of a thunderstorm on the mix on Steve’s phone--

Steve started edging closer and closer to him, reaching out--fingers skating against his leg and making him breath in a gasp. Then, once he was actually close, he would start massaging his dick through his sweatpants. 

When Bucky would make any kind of noise--any kind of gasp or moan or whimper, Steve would tsk and say, “Shh, I’m trying to pay attention” like there were secret, hidden instructions in his fucking mix of thunderstorms and birds chirping and the ocean and stupid seagulls.

Steve would keep massaging his cock until he was fully hard, and then, he would pull him out his sweatpants. The first time that Steve had done this, Bucky’d opened his eyes and leaned in to try and kiss him, only to have Steve pull away and grin wickedly at him. “Just relax, Buck. Don’t gotta go anywhere. Just breathe in, breathe out.” 

He loved him such a stupid amount that he was pretty sure that his attempts to pretend that he was actually annoyed at having to stay still weren’t all that believable. 

And Steve, Steve that utter motherfucker, had leaned in and whispered, “You think I don’t know how much you love this?” hot and heavy against his ear, and Bucky had whimpered, and stayed still and let Steve do what he wanted, which in this case, was run his hand, featherlight, against his cock, until Bucky was jerking into his touch and trying desperately hard to keep his eyes closed and keep still like Steve had instructed. 

This time, however, even though he was ready for Steve, he still had a hard time stopping his hips from jerking up into his touch when Steve pulled him out of his sweatpants. “Easy Buck, easy, breathe in, breathe out. Just focus.” 

Oh, and he really tried. He really fucking tried to focus on his breathing and the mix. He tried to picture himself in the middle of a rainforest, with thunder in the distance, and birds flying overhead. 

But unfortunately, his brain wanted to be right where he was a hell of a lot more than he wanted to be in the middle of the fucking jungle.

He expected Steve to jerk him off like he normally did, except this time, as he was trying as hard as he could to force himself to believe that he was in the middle of a rainstorm, Steve leaned down and wrapped his mouth around the head of his cock.

It was so warm and wet and hot and perfect and Bucky was pretty sure that he was going to die right there. He let out a noise that was halfway between a groan and a whimper, and Steve lifted his mouth off his cock for a brief second to tsk like he fucking always did and hushed him, “Shh, Buck. Shhh.” 

“Steve,” he murmured.

“Shhhh.”

Of course, Steve had to know that he wasn’t paying attention to the meditation mix anymore--though Steve was such a smirky bastard sometimes he wouldn’t have put it past him to quiz him on which tape they’d listened to that morning. 

Steve swirled his tongue around the tip of his cock, and reached out to run his hand along his shaft. Bucky bit down hard on his lip, worrying it to the point where he legitimately thought that he might draw blood. 

Steve, though, fucking Steve, kept just humming happily around his cock, vibrations sending prickles of pleasure up his spine. “Steve,” Bucky murmured again, only to have Steve pull off and the hand around his shaft to run lower, until it was cupping his balls, then pressed teasingly against his hole. 

“I believe I told you to relax, Buck,” Steve smirked, pressing more insistently against his hole, and somehow, it wasn’t the blow job or the fact that Steve had been jerking him off a few seconds ago, or even the fact that he was teasing him with the possibility of being fingered.

No, it was Steve telling him what to do, that made him come and come _hard_ most definitely getting come on his sweats and on Steve’s sweats and stupid smedium shirt too. 

“I hate you,” Bucky murmured as he slouched over.

“Hmm,” Steve hummed to himself, running his hands up and down his sides. “I really think you don’t.”

“I do. I fall for this stupid ‘let’s meditate together’ crap every single time,” Bucky grumbled, and Steve just hummed happily again and pressed a kiss against his forehead.

And Bucky just laid there and preened and hoped for more.

Steve laid down next to him, and pulled him into his side. “You want to know a secret?”

“What?”

“I hate meditating.”

“You bastard!” Bucky shot out, though he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. 

Steve smirked playfully and couldn’t hold back a laugh as Bucky climbed on top of him.

“Are you trying to pin me right now?” Steve laughed.

“Of course, someone has to make you pay.”

Steve rolled his hips against his, making an unexpected full-body shudder course through him.

“You gonna make me pay, Buck?” Steve’s eyes glinted mischievously. Bucky grinned and licked his lips in anticipation.

Maybe he did like meditating after all.


End file.
